FURIOUSLY HAPPY

All things considered, the last six months have been a goddam Victorian tragedy. Today Victor handed me a letter informing me that another friend had unexpectedly died. You might think that this would push me over the edge into an irreversible downward spiral of xanax and Regina Spektor songs but no. It’s not. I’m fucking done with sadness, and I don’t know what’s up the ass of the universe lately but I’ve HAD IT. I AM GOING TO BE FURIOUSLY HAPPY, OUT OF SHEER SPITE.

Can you hear that? That’s me smiling, y’all. I’m smiling so loud you can fucking hear it. I’m going to destroy the goddamn universe with my irrational joy and I will spew forth pictures of clumsy kittens and baby puppies adopted by raccoons and MOTHERFUCKING NEWBORN LLAMAS DIPPED IN GLITTER AND THE BLOOD OF SEXY VAMPIRES AND IT’S GOING TO BE AWESOME. In fact, I’m starting a whole movement. The #FURIOUSLYHAPPY movement. And it’s going to be awesome because first of all, we’re all going to be VEHEMENTLY happy, and secondly because it will freak the shit out of everyone that hates you because those assholes don’t want to see you even vaguely amused, much less furiously happy and it will make their world turn a little sideways and will probably scare the shit out of them. Which will make you even more happy. Legitimately. Then the world tips in our favor. Us: 1. Assholes: 8,000,000. That score doesn’t look as satisfying as it should because they have a bit of a head-start. Except you know what? Fuck that. We’re starting from scratch. Us: 1. Assholes: 0.

My first act being FURIOUSLYHAPPY was to share the link to this video which always makes me smile and then my friends from Dr. Pants were all “You know, we have happy songs too, idiot” and they’re totally right so I went to youtube and typed in “Dr. Pants” and youtube was all “Ooh, you mean “Dr. Pants ‘hey abe lincoln'” and I was all “Um...no. I don’t even know what that means” but youtube was all “OF COURSE YOU DO. HERE ARE THE RESULTS” and this is what showed up:

What the fuck, youtube? I’m so confused I don’t even know what to say. Especially since there are several Dr. Pants videos on youtube and you didn’t bring up any of them. But then I thought about how ridiculous this whole thing is and I laughed, which was awesome because it reminded me that I am FURIOUSLYHAPPY. Your turn. What makes you FURIOUSLYHAPPY? Leave it in the comments. Put it on twitter. Send it to your friends. Furiously.

PS. This is the actual Dr. Pants video I was looking for. Skip the first minute though because tuning your guitar is mildly melancholy and is neither furious nor happy.

PPS. I just realized that two of my friends died in the last week and that death comes in threes but you don’t need to worry that you’re next because I plan on stabbing someone I don’t like just to protect you all. You’re welcome. Except for the person I’m going to stab. You’re kinda fucked. But you’re technically saving the life of someone else so I’m pretty much making you a martyr. A martyr that will be buried in my backyard. You totally owe me.

Oh, good. Good. Because I’m sick of being just plain furious, and all this grief and sadness is way overrated. I’m sure that if we total up all the horror that’s been shared between us in the last six months, we’d come up with a tally that is divisible by 3. I’ve also got two to throw into the mix, who’s in?

YOU. You make me furiously happy. And I was totally having a crappy week, which makes me want to just curl up in a ball and hide, but now I am going to put my cowboy boots on and go kick some ass instead.

Furious happiness comes from writing a sarcastic reply to a scammer. Or finding chocolate in the cupboard when you thought you’d run out and REALLY needed it. These are lame. I’m sorry. I’m kinda *furious* with myself now so I better find something to make the *happy* part. Be right back. By the way, whenever anyone abbreviates be right back to BRB, I imagine a sound. “Brrrrrb”. Kinda like passing wind but funnier and less stinky.

Glad you added that about the back hoe… sorry about your friends.
Me being furiously happy = getting fucked up the night before and waking up and not having a hangover. Although it hasn’t really worked yet so I keep trying. I am persistent if nothing else.
Cheers!

Marshmallows make me pretty darn furiously happy. Not the kind you buy in the store and eat, but the imaginary personified ones that live in my head and populate my day with their crazy adventures. I normally tweet one marshmallow adventure per day (@prismkitty). Yesterdays was two tweets:

“Today, the marshmallows spent much time tweaking the kitten’s tail, then dashing for the safety of the Lego fort they made.

All the while, the marshmallows giggle & wear hats. As the mallows can’t decide what war they r reinacting, the hats r much the hodgepodge”

And a few days ago was: “The marshmallow wanted to have a cool, spiky, punk hairdo, but unfortunately, since it has no hair, it looked like a disgruntled sea urchin.”

The mallows are generally full of giggles, smiles, and fun adventures, which keep me entertained as I sit at my desk at work.

FURIOUSLYHAPPY!!! that my ex husband has revealed himself to be the slime that he is and now his wife filed for divorce and thinks I’m not the evil harpy she thought I was.
I mean, divorce sucks and all, but sometimes you get to be RIGHT. And even though you can’t be all “I TOLD YOU SO” you can think it and it feels great!

So this is kinda gross, but it’s you, and if I was going to put this anywhere on the Interwebs, I know you’re site would appreciate it. It makes me FURIOUSLYHAPPY to pop pimples. You know, the awesome ones that clear out in one squeeze and you’re queen of the world because you are victorious over that stupid little patch of skin. theend.

Seeing as the things that have been annoying me all week are starting to come to an end, I think I might just join you in this movement😀
By the way, that song that Youtube mentioned is one of the most furiously happy songs ever.

And I typed TOO wrong. I hate typing on this stupid tiny shiny awesome phone. But I’m TOO FURIOUSLY HAPPY to reeeeeeaaallly care. Only obviously I care enough to thumb type even more on this tiny phone to correct that imperfection. Crap. Happy!

Seriously, I have been giving a great big F-U to unhappiness all day today. Unfortunately my day has included a lot of housework and hardly any kittens, but Talking Heads helped me get past it. Why? Because “Burning Down The House” is not only an incredible song, it’s pretty much my life philosophy.

Listening to Disturbed rhyme multisyllabic words.Trying to learn Spanish from Pit Bull songs. Coke Zero. Vacuuming. Down comforters so I don’t freeze my non-existent balls off. My best friend who calls me insulting things but follows it up with “shee-it” because she’s going through an “urban” phase. InStyle magazine. These are a few of my favorite things. And really, Jenny, you could just spring for a Bobcat. I think they’re cheaper than a backhoe. Oh, and my 3 year old calls them bob-uh-cats, which is ALSO something that makes me furiously happy!

I am definitely furiously happy. I think it’s going to be a rampant movement spreading like a virus across the world converting everyone from the morbidly sad people to the mildly amused. Everyone will hop on this train and ride it all the way to the zip-i-dee-doo-daa station! BRING IT!

After you posted the link to that Lizstomania video on Twitter, I posted it to my facebook along with Duckie’s rendition of Otis Redding’s “Try a Little Tenderness” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z727wXHEJMg) because it always makes me happy (while simultaneously making me scream “WHY DIDN’T YOU CHOOSE DUCKIE, ANDY?”. She’s a stupid bitch.).

I also posted Turk from Scrubs doing Poison (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fvVZegDnbJU) not so much because it makes me “happy” but because it upped the YUM factor of my day way more than my morning donut. Donald Faison. YES.

I would give anything to see your back yard. That is why (and without further ado) I offer and this was hard let me tell you, it was a hard decision to make but my sacrifice to you is ……….my boss. He will make an excellent sacrifice.
And I will gladly dig a hole and bury him for free. FOR FREE!
No I am not high. Just practicing for the moment!

When I heard about the LGTBQ teens who had been committing suicide I was really sad. Then I saw that Oct. 20th we are all supposed to wear purple to honor their passing and remind everyone else that, as NPR says, “It does get better.” And then I saw Neil Patrick Harris and Sarah Silverman posted videos about their feelings on this. And letting us know that “It does get better.”

Now you announce that it’s time to be furiously happy. I’ve got the prefect song for you my friend.

Lyrics:
Start wearing purple, wearing purple
Start wearing purple for me now
All your sanity and wits, they will all vanish, I promise
It’s just a matter of time

So yeah, ha!
Start wearing purple, wearing purple
Start wearing purple for me now
All your sanity and wits, they will all vanish, I promise
It’s just a matter of time

I’ve known you since you were a twenty
I was twenty
And thought that some years from now
A purple little little lady will be perfect
For dirty old and useless clown

So yeah, ha!
Start wearing purple, wearing purple
Start wearing purple for me now
All your sanity and wits, they will all vanish, I promise
It’s just a matter of time

I know it all from Diogenes to Foucault
from Lozhechkin to Passepartout
I ja kljanus obossav dva paltza
Chto muzika poshla ot Zvukov Mu!

Start wearing purple, wearing purple
Start wearing purple for me now
All your sanity and wits, they will all vanish, I promise
It’s just a matter of time

Know what makes me happy. Dance classes. This Blog. And Anna Nalick’s new songs. And Cookies. Lots of Cookies.

Know what else makes me happy… having money to enjoy the little things. But I get paid very little because I’m technically still a temp after a year of working. I bet you like money too and it sucks not having any. But if you search with me on Blingo and win, we both win. And that means I can buy insurance and get pills and enjoy life again. http://www.blingo.com/friends?ref=yb2wjFTX6BI7Fa8LUrYCOGRwTs0 (not spam, just a search engine that gives prizes, so help me afford insurance please)

I absolutely love this. The things that make me furiously happy are when my dog decides its belly rubbin time and lays on me, when I discover someone else who loves the obscure things I love, any upbeat music ( especially when fans make videos like this http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-L5rXjNsI3o friggin gold, you just wanna dance with him) and dance parties and making things and even just finishing a level on a video game. I guess I’m pretty easy to make furiously happy, but with all the crazy and negative I seem to attract in my life, if I weren’t so easy to cheer up I’d be in a pit I’d never get out of. I mean, I still get in holes sometimes, but being easy to make happy means I don’t have to stay there.

Well…/technically/…Barnaby Jones would count as a friend bringing the sadness miasma to a screeching halt with the death of your third friend.

How does that saying go? This, too… or is it “this, two” – I’ve always wondered that but fuck it, I’m changing it: “This, three, will pass.”

P.S. – Avoid Steel Magnolias, and apparently Astroboy as both brought me to my knees in tears last night. Astroboy may have simply because it followed Steel Magnolias. Maybe just avoid Steel Magnolias.

You’ve had one of those years too? It’s just been a giant ball of grief and loss and drama… I’m with you on this!
My furiousl… sorry, FURIOUSLY HAPPY! thing is going to be taking time to remember what I enjoy doing then I’m going to DO IT, and do it furiously! With great happiness! I’m also going to give a one fingered salute to those people who will object to me doing enjoyable things because, I’m supposed to be in mourning. I shall flip them off FURIOUSLY and with great joy.
Thanks very very much for this post it’s just what I needed!
PS I just happen to own a back hoe…

also, i’d appreciate it if you sprinkled glitter on me after you finish stabbing me. but that’s just like… extra. like when you go to an ice cream parlor and they charge you for all the stuff you might want on top of your ice cream. i mean, *THAT* is ridiculously silly. sprinkles should be free. so i guess what i’m saying is, you could like, set a good example for the ice cream people.
or something.

you know what makes me furiously happy? My paycheck. Happy I have one, furious that I make so little money, when I am working so fucking hard. I looked at my paystub last night and laughed at the ridiculousness of working until 3am all weekend, cleaning and running and serving……..giving up time with family and friends, having no social life, missing my kids and my husband who tip toe around all weekend while I sleep between shifts. Wait, I’m not furiously happy. Just furious. Fuck being happy just for having a paycheck.

The failur-I mean … college … where I work not only has an agricultural program with a supply closet FULL of burial implements, but it also has a woodshop full of instruments that could be used to creatively rearrange the remnants of the martyr. You could actually put his/her foot INSIDE his/her mouth for karmic justice purposes.

I’ll tell you what’s made me #FURIOUSLYHAPPY lately — my 15-year-old autistic son transitioned to high school without it being a total fucking disaster. I honestly can’t wrap my brain around it it’s so fabulous. He has a problem with self-injury (translation: he sometime beats the shit out of himself, especially when he’s upset, overwhelmed, things are new or different, he wants attention, and other reasons I’m sure I’m missing), and he hasn’t come home from high school looking beat-up once. Not. fucking. once. Sometimes he’d come home from middle school looking like he’d gotten into a fight with a badger and the badger won. Not having to worry about him every minute that he’s away from me *almost* makes me more #FURIOUSLYHAPPY than I know what to do with. Thanks Jenny for giving me the opportunity to share this — your blog keeps me laughing even when life sucks, which let’s be honest, is way too damn often.

@ J in TX, reading other people’s confessions of enjoying the same disgusting things that give me so much satisfaction but would never confess lest the world know I’m disgusting makes me furiously happy.

Now, someone else, please admit you feel great picking that dry booger that just will not come out with a blow but that you feel flapping inside your nose with every inhalation or one of those other gross things I can’t bring myself to mention.

Right now, candy corn and the promise of a cool, crisp Halloween evening are making me furiously happy… Also, this is going to sound horrible and morbid so please don’t hate me because it’s LEGIT, Barnaby’s passing would have been the first death because it wasn’t that long ago and so that’s three so no one else needs to die… unless you’re stabbing someone horrible like a pedophile, then I think you should carry on as planned.

Also, when ignorant people get what’s coming to them…that makes me furiously happy.

I don’t have a backhoe, but I can give you tips on how to not get caught…let me know if you need that information. (First, start with a good alibi. Second, how big is your freezer? Third, it might be unpleasant, but it’s easiest to confuse the evidence if you live with the person you kill…so either you’re going to have to stab Victor or take in a tenant. There’s more where that came from.)

On a related, FURIOUSLYHAPPY note, my family are huge Seattle Sounders FC soccer fans. Last year he watched them win the US Open Cup from his chemo bed. This year (last night) we watched them win it again from right there in the stands.

So, a few years ago I became convinced that the universe wanted me to die. I was apparently not using all the copious gifts it had given me to their fullest and therefore should just do the right thing and hand my molecules back to be used by more worthy persons like worms.

This logic seemed flawless, but I checked it out a bit because I was really depressed and killing myself sounded like work. So I thought, either the universe loves me, hates me or doesn’t care. If it loves me, then I’m hallucinating and shouldn’t kill myself. If it doesn’t care, then I’m hallucinating and shouldn’t kill myself. If it hates me, then what the fuck is wrong with it??? Goddamn it universe? I at least try to be nice to other people. I restrain my stabbing for the most part. I give to charity. If I’m the kind of scum you don’t want around then I am forced to stick around and be a plague of goodness on your ass. Mother-fucker.

If the universe wants me to die, it can go fuck itself and do it’s own dirty work. And it better not be a bus, cause that would fuck with the driver for the rest of their lives and that job is hard enough already, which is apparently why they have to run red lights all the time. While the universe is figuring out how to kill me in a way that doesn’t make it a bigger douche than I am, I’m going to go look at cute pictures of kittehs. Yes. I am that evil.

Reading your blog makes me FURIOUSLYHAPPY, because in the sea of Lethargy and Morons and Lethargic Morons I swim in (it’s an actual place in Canada. Look it up. From what I’ve read, I’m sure there’s a parallel place in America and in Australia, unfortunately), you are a beacon of brilliance and glee (the emotion not the stupid fucking show – oops! let too much out there!)

That might not make any sense, but that you’re here* give me hope for the human race. And that makes me FURIOUSLYHAPPY.

*in case you think that’s too much pressure, there are a *couple* of people IRL and also “out there” that also give me hope.

You know, if you stabbed the newborn llamas before you dipped them in glitter and sexy vampire blood, you’d get glittery sexy baby llama vampires, which ought to be enough to make anyone furiously happy.

I posted this link on my facebook page and you almost made my sister pee her pants. Which makes me furiously happy. To have anyone pee their pants makes me furiously happy. Because peeing your pants is the coolest. According to Happy Gilmore.

I love love love that video! And it does indeed make me furiously happy!

And I love your new movement. I, too, have gone through a lot of grief lately, and have been unknowingly practicing being furiously happy. I love that someone smarter than me has given it a name! Thank you, you’ve brightened my day by one gazillion percent.

Probably my favorite post ever. (Is it uncool to tell you that directly or do I need to try and be as funny as you in this comment – impossible! – as my way of telling you it is probably my favorite post ever?)

furiously happy? Pumpkins. I’m like a fucking kid in a goddamn candy store this time if year. My husband cringes in fear with the memory of “the year of 27 pumpkins”. But they make me so happy! I just want to buy more and more and more and more of them. Also? I give them all names. I only have 2 so far this year. Floyd and Vladamir.

Remember to put a bird bath over the burial spot, so you have something in which to stare at your furiously happy face in moments of quiet contemplation of the person buried below.
(What do you mean I’ve been watching too much Prison Break?)

You can stab my MIL. First of all, she’s crazy. Second of all, she has cancer and I am voting for cancer at this point. Thirdly, fuck me, she lost her fucking hair and she TOLD ME TO SEND HER SOME OF THE KIDS’ HAIR

Jenny, I don’t think I’ve ever commented here even though I’ve been reading your blog for months. But today I was actually thinking about you and hoping you were doing well coping and everything. I’m sorry to hear about another tragedy. It’s been a bad year for a lot of people—I lost my grandmother in January and my aunt (her daughter) in June and have had a series of emotional ups and downs, so I have something of an idea where you’re coming from.

But on that note? Probably your best post ever. I absolutely love it, and I am immensely grateful.

I’m going to join you Bloggess – my life recently has been a shitstorm of one thing after another, and I consider getting out of bed in the morning a major achievement. However, starting today, I am going to be happy to the point of maniacal, and work of frightening small children with my enormous grins.

I wouldn’t put a birdbath over the burial spot, I’d use a great big huge rose bush or a tree or something. This is fertilizer, people! But thank you, Jenny, for giving this movement a name. This is what my family did when we were trying to fly to the beach this summer for vacation, but the runways were flooded! The line was long, they were busing people three hours to Chicago to get on actual airplanes, and what did we do? We laughed. We laughed at the line, at the people, at the AP newspaper man who was interviewing everyone about how RIDICULOUSLY ANGRY they were at the delay, and then we went home and ordered pizza and ate it off of paper plates in our kitchen. And you know something? We laughed so hard and so long that we were actually happy, which means that WE WON!!! Thank you for reminding me of that right in the middle of a day that has, thus far, totally sucked. You rule!

My Dad has a backhoe. My sister (@DaisyPantalones) and I will put our heads together and figure out how to get it to Texas. Provided we can pry the keys outta my Dad’s hand, that is. He loves that thing. Maybe he’ll come along and backhoe for you. Is backhoe a verb? It is now.

I so need furiously happy. Yesterday someone broke into my house, stole most of my things, shit in my toilet and played with my sex toys. I’m not even kidding you. Talk about feeling violated. You know what? My son smells like watermelon naturally, my husband has done all the laundry for the past 3 years and I made homemade brownies. Fuck you universe. I’m furiously happy.

My son just lost his first tooth, and my husband wants me to flush it down the toilet because he thinks teeth are gross. well, fuck him, I’m keeping that tooth!And my son got his letter and coin from the tooth fairy and gave me a dazzingly toothless grin, so That makes me Furiously Happy!

Benford’s Law made me furiously happy. Seriously. Did you know that one third of all bank account balances start with the number 1? It’s not a tenth like you’d think, it’s a third. It’s the same for electricity bills. And river lengths. How cool is that? Can I get a shout out from all the math geeks in this comment thread? /tap /tap Is this thing on?

Trying my damndest to be ridiculously happy right now too. THIS video always makes me happy! Yuki is so quirky and weird and JAPANESE and synchronised dancing just fills my heart with joy. This tune will get into your head, too.

It might take me a while to work up to furiously but little spurts I can manage. Something that always makes me laugh, Engrish.com. It’s stupid, juvenile and probably offensive to someone but damn, it’s fucking funny, I don’t care who you are. Singing at the top of my lungs and beating on my steering wheel in the car makes me happy. So does a good hair day, that trumps anything bad for the whole day.

My pilgrimage to FOOOORRRKKS! and my awesome friends make me furiously happy. Wish you had been there! The us-to-assholes ratio is really great when you bring 130 people into a REALLY tiny town and essentially take it over for four days.

What a Shit Storm! Furiously Happy it is! I am wondering if I can make my own version of Furiously Happy in which I go on an asshole punching spree while laughing gleefully?? What do you think, too crazy?

Okay….that sounds like I am going to be punching people IN the asshole, completely inaccurate. I will be punching people because of their asshole nature…although come to think of it, I guess I could punch assholes in the bum..that would make me even happier because that shit will look super humorous to anyone else on the street. It is on like a good old fashion duck duck GOOSE fest!!

Well, the vet clinic I manage just closed for good on Friday, because (apparently) I am the most awesomely awful Faithful Sidekick in the history of ever, so now I’m unemployed. OR… I’m SELF-EMPLOYED as a FULL-TIME AT-HOME WRITER! Working on my second book. So, screw you, Universe, I am #FURIOUSLYHAPPY!

I am FURIOUSLYHAPPY that I am fat. Yep, FURIOUSLY! It’s called NAR. Nuclear Attack Reserve. So all you skinny bitches, watch out! I will be living off my own body fat and survive ANYTHING because I like cupcakes more than you!

And I am FURIOUSLYHAPPY that you are all stabby. I am naturally a stabby person. This takes some of the pressure off.

Awesome post! Life has felt like an unmitigated poo-fest as of late and this post almost made me laugh out loud in middle of Government class. I will most definitely be joining you in your quest for FURIOUSHAPPINESS.

I’m Furiously happy when – on my 1 day per week to sleep in I get woken up early = furious! Then i realize the reason I’m up early is because my 2 year old daughter is asking where mommy is and running into my room cause she wants to spend time with me = HAPPY!!! In total = Furiously Happy!!!

Today my husband went out to lunch (I didn’t get to go…so that’s not the furiously happy part, obviously) and instead of a mint with the check, he got a Smartie. And he brought it to yours truly. Stupidly happy over that. And if you mistype, “husband,” the ever-loving iPad turns it into, “guavas.”. Which makes no damn sense in my story here, but makes me furiously happy just the same. Love you like mad, oh guava of mine!

I’ve no reason to be furiously happy…I’m boring, unpopular, and silly…gag me with a backhoe, I’m not worthy. >_<
Until a reason exists, I suppose I'll just leech in everyone else's happiness. Ohhh….leeches in Stand by Me. hehe…happiness!🙂

The fact that I am planning a wedding to the most amazing guy ever even though I am completely unemployed and hating it and have been for a year and can’t afford a thing I’m planning. In my head it’s the most wonderful wedding in the world and it will be even if it’s at the Justice of the Peace and we have dinner at the Applebee’s because he and my dog and our future make me so furiously happy. I could punch everyone in the junk and give them a hug. It’s that good, ya’ll.

You are a great communicator and reading your posts makes me furiously happy. That and I just took a nap. A good nap can make me furiously happy. Thanks for thinking of us with regard to the death comes in 3 thing because I had plans for this evening.

I hate it when you get to the point where you have no other option but to become quite the opposite of what you are. Except when that thing is tired, because when you’re the opposite of tired very fun things ensue. But being the ultimate opposite of so-sad-I’m-suicidal may become pretty fun as well. I guess we’ll find out over the next little while. I’m also to that point so it’s nice to know I’m not alone.

I’ve got tiny ducklings to make me FURIOUSLY happy. And god knows I’ve needed it because the universe feels like it just keeps dumping shit on me. I’ll share the ducklings if you like? (I should have even more ducklings in 10 days and then MORE ducklings in 4 weeks. DUCKLINGS FOR EVERYBODY!)

You know what makes me furiously happy? That I finally found a depression medication that not only covers the hopelessness and the anxiety but also helps my chronic joint pain. I haven’t felt this good in at least four years.

I was pleasantly surprised and FURIOUSLY HAPPY today when by the sheer act of getting an echocardiogram, I discovered that I am not, in fact, the Tin Man. Or the Grinch. And that my heart is not in 1000 tiny little pieces, OR made of glass, stone or gold, OR as black as pitch, OR a phantom… as it has sometimes/often pretended to be.

I’m sooooo #FURIOUSLYHAPPY. My husband’s alcoholic f’ing B of an ex-wife who dumped her daughter on me to raise and only comes around often enough to fuck up all pitiful inroads made toward being RIDICULOUSLYHAPPY shows up in town tomorrow. In honor of her visit, my stepdaughter is practicing treating me like a pariah (I will be #FURIOUSLYHAPPY if I spelled that right) and oh yeah conveniently my husband skipped the continent for this little visit and I get to face the f’ing B of an ex while he’s in India eating curry, riding on painted cows, and bathing in marble tubs while elephants spit water out their trunks to rinse his hair, while I have no hair because I’ve pulled all of mine out. Is there a word limit here? Can I keep going? Because I’m #FURIOUSLYHAPPY about a lot more shit than this. If you could get back to me and let me know on that, I’d appreciate it.

This. This is why I❤ you. You know what, fuck the world. I'll be FURIOUSLY happy with you. I need a little of that around here, and it will piss the hell out of my boss, hahah.

Well, I don't have a backhoe to lend you, but there is some creeper on Twitter who keeps trying to sell me forklifts. For the epic vibrator collection, I assume. Since I don't need a forklift, maybe we can use them to move the bodies of the other people we've axed with our furious happiness so we can bury the martyr.

You know what makes me furiously happy? Helping a friend bury someone in their backyard. Did you already do it? I can help. Why, no that’s not a microphone sticking out of my shirt. I…crap. RUN JENNY! They made me do it! It’s the only way I could get my backhoe out of impound after that last nyquil bender.

This idea makes me furiously happy! Other sources of furious happiness: red wine that’s just the right temperature, the fact that I’m getting the new Jonathan Franzen book from Amazon today, when you blow your nose just right and it feels really extra clean inside your nose like it’s brand-new or something, and pizza. Also, my husband and kid. And you!

you know what makes me furiously happy?? of course not, but i’m going to tell you. being furiously happy makes me furiously happy. mostly because it makes others furiously angry…and then we’re both experiencing some serious furiousness…but mine is better because The Blogess will furiously stab you if you don’t agree so I don’t die. Furiously doesn’t even look or sound like a real word anymore.

What makes me furiously happy?
Kate Bush with the volume at ear-splitting levels
Watching the sunset with my girl @ her beachhouse, with one of her specially-crafted-for-me cocktails
Dancing to ’80s alternative music
Eating a good meal with the BFF, with copious amounts of alcohol, ciggies, & laughter
Snuggling with my kitteh on my chest, purring with her head right between my bosoms
Leading a class where everyone is really into what I’m teaching & feels moved by it
Holding down the beat on a djun on a pleasantly warm day

I don’t have a backhoe. I do, however, have access to some shovels, a few bags of lime, and free labor. You can off the guy who took over the outsourcing company I did work for. He’s a boil on the backside of humanity. I think he should be lanced forthwith, and not just because I like saying “forthwith”. That would make me Furiously Happy, along with a caseload of Mallomars, some Green Mountain Half-Caff and a clean kitchen floor.

I have a couple people in mind for you to stab. One of which probably wants to be stabbed and put out of their misery. That is probably the best candidate – they get what they want, we get what we want, It’s a total win-win!

As for me, I have been sad for too long. I keep saying I want to be happy. It must be time to put my big-girls pants on and JUST BE happy. No matter what.

I got laid off and my last day is Friday. They want me to help pack all of their shit up because they’re moving down a floor in the building. I’m FURIOUSLYHAPPY about moving as slowly as possible because I GOT LAID OFF AND DON’T WANT TO MOVE YOUR SHIT, PEOPLE! And I’m going to come in really hungover on Friday for my going away luncheon. That really does make my FURIOUSLYHAPPY. I feel as though I should end this with some evil laughter. MWAHAHHAH

Ah, well after reading this and everyone’s comments, I guess I have no reason not to be #FURIOUSLYHAPPY. I was just pissed at the proverbial man and about to have an internal hissy fit…okay, I already did. Then I clicked this. I feel better. Working on that #FURIOUSLYHAPPY movement right about now…

Googling “back hoe” because I’m all British and was all “Pardon me? Anal prostitution?” and then realising that was completely bollocks and quietly laughing over my terrible mistake when understanding it’s a digger = #FURIOUSLYHAPPY = and NOT a gold digger or any other kind of digger = http://www.productappeal.com/photos/couples_costumes/gold_digger.html although still = #FURIOUSLYHAPPY

If, by some miracle, I manage to live to an average life expectancy, I only have about 1,300 weekends left in my life. I’d be an idiot not to spend each and every one of them FURIOUSLY HAPPY! Thanks for the reminder, Jenny!

Yes. Furiously happy. Fiddle de de and “I’ll just think about that tomorrow”. This has been the suckiest year of my life. Started with the death of a dear friend, then my husband of 25 years crawling out of my bed and walking out of our lives with his girlfriend. We won’t even go into the rest of the year. I WILL BE FURIOUSLY HAPPY! TAKE THAT UNIVERSE!

I’ve been doing it since I was in high school – on a cold, awful day, there’s nothing like cranking the heat, rolling down all the windows – and then singing (poorly) along to my favorite song. I use to live in the middle of nowhere and no one would know I was doing this … now I sit in City traffic looking crazy – but it is generally the best I feel all day.

I don’t have a backhoe. I don’t even have a shovel. However, I can say that I’m tired of being an Eeyore, and I’m ready to be a Tigger. Which is a step above furiously happy. It’s psychotically cheery.

I’m not even going to let my divorce get in the way of my psychotic cheer. I will be the damn cheeriest mother fucker that has ever had a divorce. =D

I am in. I am oldish – and have one hell of a list of people that need stabbing.
#FURIOUSLY HAPPY? Oh, yeah! I can do this! You know what made me furiously happy today? A jerk face took my parking spot at the WalMart. I was waiting to pull in and he did a “Fried Green Tomatoes”. I was going to run over him, but my truck had just been washed and I didn’t want it to get all icky. When I came out, he was with the police, and his car had been whacked! Tomorrow will be even #FURIOUSLYER HAPPIER because I say it WILL!

i think i love you. mean it. you think and say what i feel … what i say too. cept you’re way better. but i’mma catch up. i have two blogs but i’m not gonna post em here. disrespectful to her majesty the blogess😉 … sorta. (okay what’s a girl gotta do to get a mentor around here) … oh yeah. i’m the “ninja gabriel” that’s been emailing you craziness. someone’s gotta. and it helps me. so yeah.

furiously happy. fuckin-A-right. so happy that my back teeth are ground to nubs. sure. so deliriously happy that nail marks in my palms make me laugh. i get this. and i’m sorry for your loss. really. but as always you’ll flip it, nail it to the wall, and sign your name in blood red lipstick to the pain. oh wait … you already have done that.

You mean I’ve been sitting here formulating diabolical plots to take down FURIOUSLY MISERABLE people this whole time… and I could have been screwing with them even more by being FURIOUSLY HAPPY? Thank you for helping me see the light. I feel a new kick in my step as I ponder the possibilities.

What is making me happy right now? This video:
How can telling someone “FU” be wrong when you mix it with a kicky Motown beat? It can’t.

Fucking Awesome! I have spent two days in the ER with a friend and Saturday is my two-year anniversary of Dia de Madre Muerto (or Dead Mom Day) and I hadn’t yet decided if I was going to be happy she was better off and drink heavily or sad she was gone and drink heavily.

I am #furiouslyhappy that the Japanese food i had for dinner has given me the shits. I am also #FURIOUSLYHAPPY that Charmin makes ultra soft toilet paper that lotions my ass after each furiously happy shit. Take that asshole, literally.

When everything has gone so crazy beyond anything that you ever planned for your life that you have nothing you thought you’d have, and the “once in a lifetime” song by the talking heads is on a loop in my mind whenever I have a free moment.
The fact that there is nowhere to go but up, and nothing else can possibly be a wrong move gives me some freedom to say screw it, throw out the list of “where I ought to be at this point in my life”, focus on the few important things that I have and I never dreamt to expect, and be furiously happy. Screw them – I refuse to give the crappy stuff one more minute of my energy.

I am furiously happy beccause the bitchy lady at work told me to quiet down after saying hi to a co-worker and THEN e-mailed a complaint to my boss for saying hi to a co-worker. instead of being all upset about it though, the rest of the good, happy co-workers and I have been having silent parties. lots of silent laughter and silent e-mails being passed about bitchy mcbitchenstein.

tomorrow, we are starting a silent war. it will involve note passing and silently showing everyone in the office how awesome it is to be silent… when you have a chocolate fountain and party hats and cookies.

– this – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=epUk3T2Kfno
– a wind so strong it feels like it’s trying to lift me up and make me fly
– my happy puppy when she puts her ears down against her head and waggles her whole entire body
– my cat purring and snuggling with me
– the smell of the turkey cooking in the oven on Thanksgiving or Christmas morning (even though I’m vegetarian)
– sick days, because then I can be at home and exhausted instead of miserable and at work
– baklava with rose water in it
– vegetarian poutine

I also want to say:

– “Awesome!” for comment 163 (I love it! – “pardon me?”)
– Don’t recommend a rose bush (comment 107) – remember what happened in Practical Magic! Then you end up with haunted roses and haunted tequila that let your magical aunts know that you offed the murderous boyfriend and buried him under the rose bush! Then they leave to let you clean up your own mess, only after putting pieces of your ancestor’s hanging rope around your daughters’ necks to protect them from the murderous boyfriend’s spirit. Unless you want reams of toads, which I wouldn’t mind because I like toads.
– And wholeheartedly agree with comment 60 – I love the giraffe. Especially his anger phase. I’d like to think that I would get to use that some day. 🙂

Tessa was diagnosed with muscular dystrophy 32 years ago, and she just turned 40. That just kicks the universe right in the balls. In fact, the universe’s balls are in its sinus cavity when it looks at Tessa. She has been using a ventilator and a feeding tube for seven years. She still bitches at her son when he has missing homework or a bad parent-teacher conference report. She still makes love and has orgasms. I know, because it’s impossible to fake an orgasm on a ventilator. Theoretically, I mean.

If you need candidates to be volunteered to protect everyone from the deadly law of three, I keep a list you’re sure to approve of.

In addition, I having a fully stocked wetbar in my bedroom that seems to take the edge off. I highly recommend one.

Um.

I mean a wetbar of your own, not use mine. Because well…that would be awkward. I’ve never given my wetbar to anyone and I am not sure how I would feel about it. I’d be forced to walk all the way to the kitchen in the morning for a drink and that’s a serious non-plus. As a matter of fact lets forget the entire idea of using my wetbar okay? It’s mine.

Remeber, I keep a shovel, gloves, and trash bags in the back of my car, because I am THAT kind of friend, so when you need help…you know who’s ready to help.

um.

Actually I am a bit non-plussed about letting you borrow those too. I mean, what if I need them? I keep them in my car for a reason you know. SO.

Well, now that I think about it. I am so non-fucking-plussed that I need my list too. So you cant have that either…

Since it’s obvious I am going to rely on my own list after going to my wetbar, get shitfaced and using my own shovel gloves and trashbags to do dirtywork you’d likely cheer me on for, I’ll simply have to give you a bighugemotherfuckinghugfromhell and cheer you on as you discover that keeping a list of candidates for extinction isn’t such a bad practice, and a wetbar never hurts.

Lots and Lots of Love at ya Jenny. Losing friends sucks Big Green Donkey Donkeys.
And whatever you do if a crazed Italian guy runs up and gives you a a ginormous hug…
…it’s not me and you should totally call for help.😉

You know what… this blog entry is totally worthy of your advice column. I should be your personal assistant or public relations officer – most probably the PR thing because that way I would avoid being stabbed and instead focus more on covering up stabbings.

Sorry I don’t have a clever comment with lots of cussing. I do have some stab victims I’d like to volunteer for you, but you only want to do one, and mine have to be done in a pair, so then you would have to do four murders instead of one, and that’s probably pushing it for this week.

I’m furiously happy when I can park the jackass that has been driving in my blindspot for the last 3 miles by moving over and taking 3 fucking years to make my turn… do you realize how many people won’t move themselves out of that left lane… waiting for me to turn when there is a perfectly good lane to change into and move on?
My hubby is furiously happy when people who have been busy blocking traffic in the left lane wants to move over to the right lane to make a right turn and he keeps pace with then so they can’t move over for the turn and he basically drivesw them right past their turn off.
Can you tell that I am a Rules of the Road Nazi?
Fucking Furiuosly Happy when I can cram some crap into some non driving MFer’s day.

i’m FURIOUSLYHAPPY that I found you a few years ago when my life was kind of in a shit hole. Actually, my life is still kind of in a shit hole. And, actually, it didn’t really start to be a shit hole until i started reading your blog.

but fuck it, I’m FURIOUSLYHAPPY you made my life a shithole.

PS haha, but fuck it.

PPS I’m actually really FURIOUSLYHAPPY that you listen to regina spektor songs when you’re sad, because that just makes me love you more.

My best friend makes me furiously happy, laughing with her, or knowing when I tell stupid shit she truly DOES get what I’m feeling.
Also, sunshine makes me furiously happy, and so do my wild teenage daughters.
Love your post, and i agree, the best revenge is JOY. I’m determined to have a Furiously JOYFUL life!!

Jenny –
1) Fuck the world – I’m totally down with being furiously happy
2) Please bury the asshole that you’re going to stab deeper than Barnaby Jones… I would hate to see that come back up. That could put a real damper on your furious happiness.

I’m trying to get into the spirit of things, but I have also had some awful things and random, terrible incidents I’m not sharing to keep from bringing down the mood. However, I will do my best to follow your lead, Jenny, and square my shoulders and give a big ol’ raspberry to the universe. This makes me furiously happy: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZYL3j27sSH8. So does this: http://cheezburger.com/View/3982851584. Much love to everyone with a furiously happy smile.

The guy on the right in the Dr. Pants video is COMPLETELY HOT! Am I right? Like…he’s got the chiseled jaw and heavy brows of a sexy vampire except that his face is not plastered all over the universe so we could just keep him all to ourselves and if we really wanted to make it authentic, we could roll him in glitter and slap him until he’s ‘brooding.’ We might even be able to get him to speak in a British accent.

The last few weeks have been incredibly difficult for me. Today is the first day in weeks that I haven’t cried. I love the idea of choosing to be FURIOUSLY HAPPY. The Universe keeps throwing shit at me to make me miserable, well I’m gonna be HAPPY!! In your FACE, Universe!

Wingnuts make me furiously happy…on the one hand, they and the media make Americans look like a bunch of nuts who are extreme in their beliefs on BOTH sides. On the other hand they bring us sane people closer together and closer to compromise. And there are far more moderates than wingnuts. The same applies to the church. There are far more truly loving Christians than the extremely corrupt that get all the attention. These things make me furiously happy. And my children even when I’m angry with them.

I just want to say…this post first made me laugh, and then made tears come to my eyes because it is EXACTLY the way that I feel these days. I’ve had a rough year – not like, Lifetime Movie of the Week, more like, typical 20-something bullshit T.V. show on the WB (CW? I think it changed names sometime ago maybe?) and I see the people and institutions that made it rough EVERY DAY. Sometimes I want to cry standing in the middle of it all, put my misery on display…but no. From now on I am going to be laughing. I’m going to be standing there with a mug of beer in my hand (or diet coke. equally addictive and awesome), laughing louder than anyone, and if they want to call me obnoxious, they can, but I’m going to smile because I’m alive, dammit, and that’s awesome, and nothing they’ve done has affected that at the very least.

Thanks Jenny, your blog has been a source of laughter and unexpected poignancy for me for the last year, and this post gave me the kind of jolt I haven’t gotten since the pep talk my high school coach gave me before our biggest competition of the year. You give me hope, and you give me courage.

She makes the happys flow free! However I acknowledge that while you and I and everyone else, can appreciate our awesomeness, sometimes we like to bask in the furious happiness of others, so… Get you happy-little-head around this gem – http://www.engrish.com/

The thing that makes me the happiest is watching horror movies with friends, while it’s raining outside and drinking tea and eating cake.

I’m not really sure why it has to be that exact combination, it just does. I love horror movies and love afternoon tea. It’s like HORROR!!!!!!!!! with a civilised twist. Which is really weird, because I’m far from civilised most of the time…

I needed this. So much. I’m in the hospital with my one year old who started having seizures this week and we have to wake him up at 4AM to have him sleep deprived which is pretty fucked up and there’s just nothing happy about that. But this? Made me laugh and smile through the scariness. Thank you.

Twittering the shit out of #furiouslyhappy dudette. Please stab that person soon for my own selfish need for safet/piece-of-mind. Although I wouldn’t go with the backyard for the hiding place, its always the first place they look. I would recommend tying them up high in a tree – no-one would even bother looking there for any dead bodies.

Unless you don’t tie it properly and it falls on-top of the people looking for the dead person and then its like some freaky horror film – ‘Death from Above’……hmmm…..just learn to tie proper knots.

Sometimes those deaths just come in twos with a third in the periphery side of life. Two years ago I lost two out the three remaining grandparents in two months…Then a month after the last death, I started dating my boyfriend. He lost his grandmother a month later (she was really sick to begin with so no blaming me). I hope that’s the case for you…no more friends, but a friend of the grocery store check out counter girl you are chatty with.

My #FURIOUSLYHAPPY times are when you and allie over at hyberpole and a half update your blogs. Also, cookies…the peanut butter kind, and a good steak.

After finding out my “permanent” employment was no longer so “permanent”, I took the next day off and went to the Zoo, where I took photos… of elephant poo. For real. I guess that either makes me #FURIOUSLYHAPPY or just plain f***ing crazy.

Also, Laura? If Jenny calls and asks you about help in digging something out of her corn patch, you might want to consider that “abetting after the fact” *is* considered a crime in Texas. Just sayin’.

You know what makes me Furiously Happy? Having Bjork’s Violently Happy stuck in my head ever since I read this post title.
But I don’t know about Dr. Pants. In the UK, if a day is gloomy, they call it “pants”. So obviously, Dr. Pants comes from a gloomy place. I’m sticking with the chick from Iceland. I hear it’s not-gloomy there.
Also, you can stab the cold virus. Can you stab a virus? You’d need a really small knife, and body disposal would be a snap.

The video on our website of a Pit Bull licking a baby bunny rabbit makes us #furiouslyhappy. It’s just so cute it hurts. It just reminds us of all that is good in the world.

And chocolate, good cup of coffee, hugs, any pet or animal, especially when they are babies, watching the ocean after a storm, finding something cool that washed up on the beach…except one time we found a memorial wreath with someone’s name on it, but other than that or a body, it’s all good.

Most days I am furiously depressed because I have been out of a job for over two years now, and I’m creeping up on the prospect of having to live in a refrigerator box under a bridge somewhere, but every morning when I wake up I am furiously happy when I remember that I don’t have to fucking go to work anymore. BTW, if you’re looking for someone to volunteer to be stabbed by you, I’m game. Save you having to sneak up on someone else. Sorry I don’t have a backhoe.

Okay, try this: put on fuzzy socks from Bath and Body Works. Stand on tile. Turn in circles by ONLY twisting your upper body in that direction (keep your feet stationary, except for the sliding over the tile part). It’s pretty much was makes me giggle every day.🙂 And skittles.

I gave my boyfriend backhoe driving lessons for Christmas last year. It’s like I was totally prepping him to help you!🙂

I do not have a picture of the following event, but I am pretty sure it would make even the stabbiest among us (me) moderately to considerably happy. Perhaps even furiously.
While looking out the streetcar window this morning, I saw a puppy. “Ooh, puppies, way to call it in with the furiously happy.” But it was not just a cute puppy. It was also hilarious. It was a puggle and it walked in that puppy way of OHMIGOD OHMIGOD OHMIGOD WHAT IS THIS? Still, I do not know if that would make people other than me anything more than regular happy. But! The other passengers on the streetcar, many of whom were sleepy or sour-faced or maybe just not liking the fact that people would later describe them in blog comments, saw the puppy out of the window, and for a minute the whole side of the streetcar was just standing there, grinning at the puppy.
Then the pup walked over to a dude locking up his bike, and dude was obviously furiously happy at this turn of events. The pup did the SNIFF HELLO SNIFF thing, and then the HI HI HI I AM HERE HI HI HI CAN I LICK YOUR FACE? OKAY! thing. And the dude was smiling bigger than any of us. Maybe it just made me furiously happy, but I am fine with that.

Also…finding the perfect shade of gray to paint my living room makes me happy. But convincing my kids the eleventy billion test spots on the walls count as Halloween decorations (“We don’t need to buy decorations. We have ghosts. Square ghosts. They’re even scarier than the other kind. They’re like the roadkill of ghosts.”) makes me furiously happy.

You should play the ukulele. It is physically impossible to be anything but furiously happy whilst playing. Its true. This makes me so furiously happy I just puked a little. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7vUBKUBuiMc

Also, I think BJP was the first of the sad trilogy, so I don’t think you need a back hoe after all.

This makes me furiously happy, and by that I mean I have to try not to piss myself every time I watch this http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CO37fcN2XHM I don’t even know why. I know its kind of stupid but this is one of my favorite moments. Embrace the childish piss inducing laughter and just giggle at it.

[…] on the various tragedies overwhelming my life since January of 2009, but I recently came across this blog post by the amazing Bloggess, and it finally put a name to what I’ve been practicing. FURIOUSLY HAPPY. It means the […]

Finding a $20 bill in a winter coat pocket in November when I have to pull it out from summer sleep makes me happy (I’m superficial like that), chocolate makes me happy, sleeping in makes me happy, suddenly not having to work makes me happy, having sex makes me happy, sleeping pills make me happy, having a friend pop up outtanowhere with a case of Corona for me makes me happy, and rainbows. Rainbows make me happy. So suck it up, life is fucking fantastic even if me too I’ve had to of my closest and dearest friends die on the same fucking day… Are you happy now? Are you? Are you? I hope so. Cause now my rainbow is gone and it’s fucking raining again!

So, there are a couple of things that make me pretty damn happy, but most of them involve a whole lot of schadenfreude, and that’s hard to produce on demand. Like the time an SUV took offense to me turning left on a green arrow and decided the best course of action would be to try to t-bone me, then have his passenger lean out the window shouting obscenities and throw things at my car. And then the car behind him turned on its siren and lights and pulled it over because it was a fricking cop car, WHICH WAS SO AWESOME FOR ME. But it was also like 10:30pm, so my camera phone was not up to filming the process of those jerks getting their comeuppance in the dark. From a distance.

Last night when I was walking Winston, I decided that I was going to MAKE today a good day. It might have been better had I gotten some sleep last night, but I’m still determined! Last night, my mom stopped and got me Olive Garden for dinner and dropped it off at my house, and she included alfredo sauce for my breadsticks, even though I didn’t ask for it. And that makes me FURIOUSLY HAPPY. And Tuesday she made these brownies topped with a layer of peanut butter cream THEN topped with a layer of chocolate. And that makes me FURIOUSLY HAPPY. And I just decided I’m having Long John Silver’s for lunch and that makes me FURIOUSLY HAPPY. Saturday, I’m having dinner at The Cheesecake Factory, and that makes me FURIOUSLY HAPPY.

Maybe I should just cut to the chase and say food makes me FURIOUSLY HAPPY.

A reminder to be happy (edit: furiously happy) is just what I need right now. So thank you. I have spent the last month and a half wondering what the fuck is happening in my life and if I really want to be a part of it all. Reading your pithy humour and recognizing that you’re taking a shit situation and shaking it around to try and make it better is helpful. I’m not sure exactly how I am going to shake up my situation, but I’ll work on it. It will likely involve red wine through a straw (I wear clear braces, am not an alcoholic, I don’t think) and the wrangling of some friends I have fallen out of touch with. Also, I will start my Christmas shopping and while some think its too early, I am happiest when I am organized (read: in control!). Happy Furiously Happy Day! I am totally going to get my favourite latte now… just because I can.

Be sure and furiously stab and asshole…or stab a furious asshole…or whatever..just make sure it’s an asshole you stab and it’s not your own cuz that would hurt and defeat the whole purpose of people dying in 3’s cuz you would have no dead asshole except your own.
Things that make me furiously happy:
1. Someone else doing the dishes
2.Someeone else doing the laundry.
3.Someone else cooking dinner.
4. All of the above and doing it right (which means my way)
I’m pretty easy to please.

Things that make me furiously happy… there are plenty!
And I’m just a simple girl, so it’s simple things that make me furiously happy.

Feeling the sun on my skin. A good book. The smell of grass. A warm shower on a cold day. Sleeping in late. A good glass of wine. Dancing. My loved ones around me. Good music. Having friends to laugh and share with. A cup of strong black coffee on a mondaymorning.
My energy light.
Laughing. Writing. My dog when she’s acting like she has zero braincells (which is all the time by the way). Giving. Flowers! Holidays. The sound of the sea. Oh, speaking of the sea, I love fish! On my plate.
But that doesn’t mean I would bake my goldfish. Just, other fish. From the sea.

I love that when my youngest son does something he isn’t supposed to do and he gets caught, his expression is one of sheer joy. He is furiously happy about everything, and getting caught in an act of disobedience doesn’t change that. He’s always like: “Isn’t life glorious? All these things to do and stuff to break and doesn’t that just make you want to smile?”
He is naturally furiosly happy. He is only three, but we can all learn from him.

You have no idea how FURIOUSLY HAPPY I am that I decided to read your post before heading off to what promises to be the worst meeting of my life. I work with such ingnoranuses (both stupid AND assholes) that it becomes physically painful listening to their verbal vomit. And today I’m supposed to spend four hours with them…in a closed room…with no stabbing implements….while they tell me just how I can become a better teacher (even though NONE of them have ever taught a day in their life). JOY!!

I already had my scowl etched on my face when your post made me rethink my approach COMPLETELY!! I’ve replaced my evil-eye stare with a ridiculously large grin. I now realize that this will infuriate them more than anything else in the world. Oh happy day. I love you and adore your posts more than you will ever know (but not in a creepy, stalker kind of way). Giant hugs and irrationally loud laughter from across the ocean.

What makes me furiously happy is The Bloggess writing about the song that my best-ie and I have been singing all weekend while giggling like 12 year old boys! “I want to spend all your money… at the gay bah” (sung w/ a Mainer accent)

I love this! What a great way of looking at things. Sometimes, you have to just take charge and make yourself happy. No one else will. I am really happy I read this today – great to change my perspective.http://simplysolo.wordpress.com

I realize with the death of your two close friends, the timing of this email is probably not great, but I wanted to let you know that it is posts like this, that made me include your blog in a list of top 10 Professional women bloggers.

Fucking good for you! Lots of things make me furiously happy. Like the beautiful fall fucking colors. Like sticking swear-fucking-words in inappropriate places. Like realizing that you’re finally, HONESTLY over something I had been letting occupying brain space for too fucking long. Like sending an incredibly acerbic email to someone deserving, and using non-obvious vocabulary in casual places like in this very sentence. Like this video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=84NM-RldOF8. Happy Birthday TO THE GROUND!

I love you. i’ve just listened to that phoenix song twice in a row and i’m about to play it again, i’m trying to get the Judd Nelson hair-flick dance thing just right, then i’ll be awesome. You’ve made my Friday! Made it furiously happy i mean.

Hell yes we should all be Furiously Happy and I will teach you how I am achieving it.

Item 1: Fort Kick ASS- while I am a grown adult, my living room is filled with the best effing fort the world has ever seen and it’s staying! Even Satan kitty likes attacking helpless victims through the sheet coverings. EVERYONE IS A FREAKIN’ WINNER!! Unless of course you consider feet attacks a negative.

Item 2: Halloween Challenge- my downstairs neighbor is about to get his four year old ass kicked by spiders, ghosts, bats, and witches. His graveyard theme is buried (HA! Get it? Furiously Happy people use puns histerically!)

I am furiously happy when my kids are furiously happy and, dang it, they are furiously happy RIGHT NOW. It doesn’t matter that my daughter’s math test was moved up at the last minute and one of her brothers HAD to go into her room whiile she wasn’t looking because her books aren’t lined up the way they usually are even though the rest of her room is a mess and I can’t believe she care about a friggin’ book shelf when she leaves her discarded underwear all over the floor — NO! She is FURIOUSLY HAPPY! And my boyscout son who is going on a week-end campout, which means he will have absolutely no access to video gaming or technology of any kind which should be a federal crime because kids NEED gaming — NO! He is FURIOUSLY HAPPY, too! And my youngest, who looks so sweet and cute but is the devil incarnate when he doesn’t get his way and he didn’t because I forced him to eat what I prepared for dinner instead of the the Fruit Loops he demanded is also, in fact, FURIOUSLY HAPPY.

I get FURIOUSLY HAPPY when I see that you’ve posted and for people like you who do not ban my I.P. Freely address from your blog because I left some stupid not funny crazy comment (accidentally) when I was shooting for stupid crazy funny (without the word “not”) Some people view that as pissing on their blog and I swear to God I honestly thought I could arc it (the stream) and make it over the ledge without getting any on the blog.

Your writing kind of reminds me of Janet Evanovich’s writing, only less red and a lot more funny and definitely more swearory….I’m pretty sure I just made up that word. Which is fucking awesome! I should be given an engraved trophy…or a tomb at Westminster Abbey like William Shakespeare, because he made up the word assassination. Way to go Will you made up a way to kill like 50 American presidents. Hmmm, Google tells me there hasn’t even been 50 American presidents. Fuck. How am I supposed to know these things, I’m a fucking zoologist.

Yippeeeee!!!! I need a feeling to embrace fiercely besides melancholy, depression and worry. I’m going to have the BEST DAY ever despite all the people raining on my parade. I’ll be the one with the clown make up and the baton leading the rest of us furiously happy people down the street. Oh, god, I think I’ve lost my mind…

PS. My comment was supposed to make you furiously happy. If it did, then I’m totally awesome and deserve a pat on the back. If not, well then I’m not a fucking therapist. I’m a zoologist. If you were a sad echidna then I could help you. Way to go, Jenny, for not being a sad echidna.

Grace, as I understand it, we are waiting for the signal. Which as I read it, was to be a bell going *ring* *rang* rung* and then *ring* again (rumor has it the bell from the south will sneak into the house disguised (dressed up) as a lovely woman… and wearing a BonnieT.

actually that does sound weird, probably just more of my crazy thoughts (controlled by women authors with glamouring skillzzzzzzzzzzzz)

I am furiously happy because even though I’m applying to college and I have to take the SATs in a strange town and in a strange school, today I woke up and found my dog sleeping in the laundry bin. It was adorable and I took about twenty six pictures.
…and now my dog just blew a snot into my mashed potatoes. Kinda lost a little happy.

*said under my breathe lips smiling and fairly still like a vantrilla quest*
(jess that movie was pretend ghosts/pears/oranges/apparitions cannot preform sex acts with fullblooded humans….at least without “killing them with kindness”…. can you say murder charge…I have a clean record, actually DBD with 333 songs and nary a split millisecond skip, I cannot risk my unskipping DBD: ie: only sex for me with the undead)

I HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE WHAT YOU JUST SAID! Probably because I’m drunk or probably because I stayed up way to late writing a grant for my research and I’m so tired. I’m going to go with the first because it sounds less nerdy.

Okay, so I’m not going to tell you that I’ve lost eight people in five years and that it has been rough because, clearly, you get that. But I love this blog, the joy with which you approach life. I want to be FABULOUSLYHAPPY and I plan to. For them. For me. I deserve it, and damn it, I actually believe that is why we are here. To spread joy around, not to piss all over each other or wallow in sorrow forever. So since this is our first meeting, I will say I’m sorry for you loss (because I really am sorry), but I will not offer you a back-hoe because I’d actually rather have you stick around for a while ‘cuz you are kinda pee-in-your pants-funny and we can all use a little more of that, so don’t do us any favors.

I plan to be furiously happy tonight, surrounded by Bill’s family…eating Honey Bears BBQ! Thanks for reminding us all that WE are in control of our own destiny (unless we are the ONE you are going to kill, of course!)

i adore this term! Furiously happy. It gives me a certain feeling, and I can’t really describe the feeling, but its powerful, and defiantly joyful, and female, and a little drunk. Thank you for putting words to this! Recently, I have experienced money troubles, family cancer troubles, pet troubles and car troubles but GOD DAMMIT that doesn’t even matter. I am furious, but I am happy. You are something of a hero, dear Jenny, for avertising your troubles. Stay furious, stay happy. And keep writing, because you are, in fact, the highlight of my internet experience.

Well my day certainly seems to have escalated to a chipper one. I let dropping AC water-drainage-shit all over my feet, jamming my fingers in the fridge and running into a wall get me down. At least I’m not alone when it comes to thinking murderous thoughts when bad shit happens. Keep smiling!

“MOTHERFUCKING NEWBORN LLAMAS DIPPED IN GLITTER AND THE BLOOD OF SEXY VAMPIRES AND IT’S GOING TO BE AWESOME” this needs to become a t-shirt immediately. I’d buy 7 each in a different color for every day of the mofo’in week.

I am so happy that you tell the truth. Last year, I went to two grandmas’ funerals and earlier my Dad’s and I hate having people I care about die. I hate having jerks around that act like they are nice so other people will respect them, but I know that they are jerks, but out of respect for respectable people don’t make a big deal about it. I hate getting diagnosed with a rare disorder a few months before I got married that says I might die if I try to have kids. Come on! Is this a joke?

I don’t know if this is affecting everyone else, or just me, but your website is loading a LOT slower than usual. (about a full minute per page, on highspeed internet)
Couldn’t find an email in About Me (might be there, I am occasionally blind to obvious things) and it is so slow that I didn’t really have the time to scour the rest of the headers for it when I was pretty sure it wouldn’t be there. But you read these anyways I think.

So yeah, maybe call up your webhosting thingie and be Furiously Happy about how slow your page is loading. I bet that’d scare them into fixing it for you super quick.

Holy dammit, YOU make me FURIOUSLYHAPPY.
I would also be furiously happy if ‘dammit’ were spelled ‘damnit.’ *IT JUST MAKES MORE SENSE.*
Also? I feel that this is a safe enough space to add that I would be more than happy to kidnap Elmo so that you could stab him and all of his whiny passive-aggressiveness.

Did I read that your book deal is now finalized? You GO girl! I am so stinkin’ happy for you and the fact that you decided to say screw it, I’m going to be exactly who I want to be world, take me as I am AND THEY DID! You totally rock, because you keep it so real.

I tried writing a positive post today, and guess what? NO ONE BIT. So there it sits, with all the dozens of tweets and FBs and comments of the last week, and it’s over there looking lonely. Weird. I think people have started not to expect it of me.

Will try to do as you say, and be #FURIOUSLY HAPPY tomorrow.

Oh wait, I was today too — I lay on the grass reading a report for work while my child scribbled on the driveway with chalk. #FURIOUSLY HAPPY despite it all.

there are a lot of backhoes out there. We have one too. Weird. I’m so sorry you are having such a shitty shitty time and I’m so glad you are taking the shittiness by the balls and converting it into furious happiness. Good for you! Love ya!

I’m sorry for your loss Jenny, but your humor and determination in the face of tragedy gives me hope for humanity. Excuse me, I meant hope for humanity surviving the zombie apocalypse. Also your implied ability to operate a backhoe.

First, I cannot believe how long it’s been since I’ve been here. In penance, I offer to be your martyr, I’ll even rent you the backhoe. I’ll give you a signed check; since I’ll be dead it won’t matter when it bounces.

And I applaud your furious happiness… I promise to smile while you kill me.

Not sure if it’s been posted yet, but this truly makes me furiously happy.

What’s funny is that this crazy laughter is how my family tends to deal with death. My mom, honest to God, was dead on the couch from cancer and we were all gathered around talking about her and my brother actually made a joke about how she was having monkey sex in heaven with her boyfriend (who had died the year before). OK, so this video isn’t about that at all, but she’s laughing exactly the same way we were.

Love you, Jenny, and I am so glad that you’ve started this movement. I hope this video makes you pee a little bit.

I’ve been thinking about your furiously happy movement at random moments when I feel discouraged for the last however long since you posted this. This is something that makes me furiously happy: http://music.todaysbigthing.com/2010/10/04

Thank you SO much for this post!
The last 2 hours or so have been amzingly sucktastic. I mnaged to lose my credit cards leavng me almost penniless in a foreign country. Stirke that completely penniless. To be exact I have 3.50 euro and I’m in freaking scotland where they don’t use freaking euros. it’s almost 2 am here and I woke up at 6:30 am french timewhich means I feel like it’s like 3. I panicked, I cried, I sat for awhile and did nothing because I’m not grown upto handle this sort of thing. And then I decided that i was okay, that it couldn’t get worse. Then I remembered this and said fuck you to okay and hello to furiously happy.
The universe thought it could ruin my day stealing my credit cards. Well fuck you universe: I am furiously happy!

[…] And there’s literally no reason why. I’ve caught the reverse flu it seems and although I’ll probably get cured of it soon I might as well make the most of it. I see what The Bloggess meant when she was talking about being ‘furiously happy‘. […]

Your blog makes me furiously happy….my coworkers are beginning to think I don’t work anymore because all they hear is hysterical laughter coming from my office….either that or they thinks I have finally cracked….that might be more likely…either way….it doesn’t change the fact that your blog makes me die of happiness

Things that make me deliriously happy:
1) Finding new authors/tv shows/blogs (hint, hint) that I love. *love* For real.
2) Remembering that I’m married to a man who fits me perfectly, even if it took him 11 years to get the last bits right.
3) The fact that although I’d given up on those last bits, they actually happened. Sometimes people who do the same things and have decided the same results are still worth the overall big picture, are NOT INSANE. (Technically, I wasn’t expecting different results…) Sometimes, these people are shockingly surprised.🙂
4) Getting through the hump of “I hate all of these chores and demands in this life I chose to create for myself,” and finding a new road in the middle of it all.
4) Loving to do so many things/having so many interests, that even if I don’t get to take the new road, there are many different adventures lurking out there… You know, in the bushes. (It wasn’t zombies after all.)
5) Having more than one 4.
6) Watching my children make good choices and feeling excited for their future, being part of their great beginning. (The ultimate creation/art, imo.)
And this last one is by far the most important thing I wouldn’t want to ever do without –
7) My own (as in, in my house) private HOT SHOWER. And indoor plumbing. Sometimes I feel sorry for the people in China who have to walk down the block and stand in line to potty. Not cool.

Furiously Happy – damn I needed this today! I was just introduced to your blog a couple of weeks ago – and I must say – you are now how I get through some of my days. I am backtracking – reading from this weekends post backwards – and I’ll catch up on it all, eventually – you give me my mental breaks at work – so like you said – technically they should be paying you for my excellent performace! You’re a fucking genius, and I cannot wait until your book comes out! xoxoxo MissusMoose

Thank you. Not just for the permission–nay, the encouragement–to be FURIOUSLY HAPPY, but for finally reminding me what the name of that gay Abe Lincoln song is. I’ve been looking for that for THREE WEEKS, ever since I saw the movie, but I’m apparently really bad at googling things because I didn’t find it, but I did find your archives. So thank you. You made my day.

After the shitstorm of 2016, I’m returning to the #FURIOUSLYHAPPY movement. Yeah I was side tracked with work and kids and responsibilities and excuses, but now my kids need to see me enjoy some random fuckery as much as I do.

All in the Family: Courtney LeBlanc's poetry chapbook is an honest and raw look into the dynamics of family relationships, the good, the bad, and the oh-so ugly; it'll make you cringe, cry, laugh, smile, and appreciate the relationships you have with your family.